


Legacy

by InsaneTrollLogic



Series: CW Impulse Fic [10]
Category: Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (vanished in the crisis), Barry is missing, Bart Allen is Impulse, Bart Allen is the Flash, Caitlin Snow is Killer Frost, Eddie Thawne Lives, Flash Family, Flash Forward, Future Fic, Gen, Legacy Heroes, Minor Barry Allen/Iris West, Minor Eddie Thawne/Iris West, Post-Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10185617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: Barry's missing after the crisis. The city's on the brink of chaos. Someone needs to step up to be the Flash.Bart's afraid it might have to be him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is a big ass time-skip between last fic and this one. Like ten years. Whoops. 
> 
> [Not really necessary to read the others in the series. The basic concept of this verse is Bart Allen time travels from the future and and CW!Barry adopts him. Because the world needs more Impulse.]

Five days after the Flash vanishes, the still bleeding body of Eddie Thawne appears in the speed lab.

Since the crisis, Bart’s been working with Cisco trying to figure out a way to trace Barry’s last known location. They’d both watched the fight, seen something that looked like Barry _disintegrating, b_ ut no one knows what else to do, so Cisco’s been working the breaches in the hope that if Barry’s managed to lose himself in the wrong dimension just like Bart did when he ran towards the past all those years ago.

Neither of them are expecting a very familiar face to fall out of the breach.

“Holy… Christ on a cracker,” Cisco says, lowering his arm as the breach flickers close. “Is that who it looks like?”

Bart’s at his side in a second, a hand pressed against the single gunshot wound to the chest. “I’m seeing the same person,” he says, his opposite hand checking for a pulse. It’s faint and getting slower. “He needs help.”

“What do you mean help?” Cisco chokes. “Is he still _alive_?”

Bart nods. “I’m not sure for how much longer. You think I should run him to Caitlin?”

“Caitlin is in no way equipped to handle a near fatal gunshot wound to a non-meta human.”

“Thehospitalthen,” Bart says, thankful that he’s already in his Impulse gear. He shakes his head down, letting his goggles fall from his forehead and into place on his face. “Don’ttellAuntIrisyet.”

He scoops Eddie up in his arms. Bart’s still doesn’t have much by way of upper body strength, but Eddie, who had looked huge to him as a kid isn’t actually that big a guy. He takes a deep breath and runs, depositing Eddie five seconds later on a gurney in the hospital’s ER. The doctor in the room lights up. “Flash!” she says.

Bart feels sick. He’s been Impulse officially since he was eighteen, but his first appearance in costume was at age twelve and the first time someone from the newspaper had been able to get a picture, he’d been fifteen. Impulse is not a new quantity in the city. But right now, all anyone wants to see is the Flash. Bart can’t say he blames them.

“Youneedtohelphim,” Bart says. He winces internally practically hearing Barry’s voice scold _slower_ and then recollects himself. “Gunshot to the chest. As of twenty seconds ago, he has a pulse.”

The doctor snaps out of her shock, focusing slowly on Eddie, barking out orders to the nearest nurse. Bart feels his own adrenaline leaching out of him as he watches the proceedings, the reality of the situation setting in.

Eddie had died when they were fighting the Reverse Flash. Sucked into the singularity, Cisco said. No body recovered, but no real doubt either.

He’s supposed to be dead.

“Impulse?” a nurse says. “Do you know this man’s information?”

“His name is Eddie Thawne,” Bart says. His voice stays slow, unconsciously translating his habitual speeding into vibrating his face. He’d worked that trick out with Barry, _Dad_ , one summer when he’d first started training in the speed lab.

“Allergies?” she asks. “Medical history? Next of kin?”

 _Bart_ ’s the next of kin. If Eobard Thawne--Bart’s grandfather--was erased by Eddie’s death, Bart had to be a blood relative as well. He’s probably the only person left in the country who has that particular credential.

Not to mention Aunt Iris, who had been Eddie’s fiancé almost a decade ago.

His tongue feels thick. He forces himself to say, “I don’t know.”

“Are _you_ all right?” she asks.

“No,” Bart says.

Then he runs.

* * *

Bart comes back later the same day in his civilian clothes. His teachers at the university already know that he has a family emergency. Officially, Barry is listed under the dozens of citizens in Central City missing after the crisis. It’s… a convenient excuse. A way to mask Bart’s own involvement in the cleanup. He hates it.

He’s far from the only family member at the hospital. There are still dozens of patients without identification being treated and more nameless faces in the morgue. Bart thinks he might be one of the lucky ones.

At least he knows what happened to his dad.

What happened to Eddie is a different story.

“Bart Allen,” he introduces himself, careful to keep his speech even despite his nerves. “I got a call about my cousin, Eddie Thawne.”

He gets a once over. “You old enough to make medical decisions for your cousin?”

Bart’s twenty-one, at least according to his license. His first couple years were inside a VR that was paced to keep his mental development on track with his body which was aging at a hyperaccelerated rate. He always feels awkward when he’s pegged for younger that he is, like somehow they’re onto his less than legitimate identity. He slides his ID over the counter.

The nurse checks it against something on her computer and then slips it back. “You his only family?” she asks.

“As far as I know,” Bart says. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

Looking bored, the nurse gives over a room number. Bart nods briefly, moving towards the stairs and then has to backtrack, giving her a sheepish smile.

She clocks him immediately. “Forget the number?”

Bart nods. She rolls her eyes and jots it down for him on a notepad.

Eddie’s room is in intensive care, only private by virtue of a screen. Bart hesitates and then takes the chair in the corner of the partition, not close enough to accidentally dislodge anything. Aunt Iris keeps a picture of Eddie in her wallet, tucked behind the one of herself and Barry on their wedding day. The wedding day picture is formal, the couple smiling softly at one another, but the picture of Eddie…

Bart always loved it. He has no idea when it was taken, but Eddie and Iris are both covered in paint, sitting on a tarp covered couch. Neither of them are looking at the camera. Aunt Iris is laughing, Eddie has his nose pressed to her cheek a wide smile on his face.

He knows that Iris loved his dad… _Loves_ his dad, but Bart’s pretty sure that Barry would have never had a chance if Eddie survived.

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t called Aunt Iris yet.

He drums his fingers on the arm of his chair, letting them blur with speed. He doesn’t know how normal people do this all the time. A glance at the clock on the wall says he’s been here five minutes, but it feels closer to hours.

He stands abruptly, takes two steps closer to the hospital bed to examine the unconscious man.

It definitely looks like Eddie. Like he hasn’t aged a day since Iris’s photo and that had to be ten years ago. With the number of versions of Harrison Wells they’ve seen through the years, Bart doesn’t really doubt this is some version of Eddie Thawne. He just hopes it’s not an evil twin. Inertia filled his evil twin quota for the decade.

“You’re not exactly the person I was hoping to fall out of a portal,” Bart says. “But it is good to see you, Uncle Eddie.”

The heart monitor blinks at him.

Bart pats Eddie on the hand. “Getwellsoonokay.”

Belatedly it occurs to him that after gathering up a ton of static electricity from drumming his fingers over a plastic chair, he probably shouldn’t touch someone hooked into that many machines. One of them starts beeping loudly and then a different one screeches. Bart forces himself not to flash off and find a doctor to physically put him in front of Eddie. Instead he waits ten agonizing seconds until someone hears the alarm and pushes him aside as they draw the curtains.

He has to wait in the hall for the next two hours.

* * *

When the doctor finally comes to get him, Bart doesn’t hear a single word between “He’s alive,” and “He been in and out of consciousness.”

“He’s awake?” Bart asks.

“For a few minutes.”

“I want to see him,” Bart demands.

He has to ask a few more times, but eventually, he’s ushered back into the ICU.

Eddie stirs when he sits next to the bed, his eyes slightly unfocused. It takes him a while to form a word, his brow creasing in concentration. When he forces it past his lips, it’s nearly inaudible, but it makes an impact. “Barry?”

Bart knows he looks like Barry Allen. They have the same rangy body type, the same baby face, the same hair color. He’s been wearing one of his dad’s old STAR Labs sweat shirts almost constantly since the crisis so even the attire has to ring of familiarity.

The resemblance was one of the reason it had been so easy to say that Bart was Barry’s son when he first ran to the past. Bart looks just like his dad.

It’s always been a point of pride.

“Barry?” Eddie says again.

“I’m not…” Bart says. He’s not sure how he’d planned to finish that sentence so he just trails off, staring at his hands.

“Where’s Iris?” Eddie asks. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” Bart promises.

“Barry?” Eddie asks again.

“Barry’s my dad,” Bart says after a minute.

Eddie frowns, looks him over again and then slowly, like he’s not sure what he’s looking at is real. He says, “ _Bart?_ ”

He’s unconscious again a few minutes later.

* * *

Later, Bart’s sitting on one of the terminals at STAR labs, tapping his foot against the ground as Cisco and Caitlin stare at him.

“Say that again,” Caitlin orders. There’s an almost cynical bite to her words these days, her eyes a cold ice blue. She hasn’t been a real member of the team in years, too many mistakes, too many people hurt, but while Killer Frost is a tentative ally at best, Caitlin Snow is always willing to provide medical expertise.

“Eddie’s alive,” Bart says.

“Eddie _Thawne_ ,” Caitlin says. “The one who shot himself in the chest and grandfather paradoxed the Reverse Flash out of existence? I thought Barry put a moratorium on time travel after the last incident. How does this happen?”

“We were looking for dad,” Bart says. “Cisco had just closed a breach.”

“Then he’s a breacher!” Caitlin stands, her eyes flashing. The temperature in the room takes a nose dive.

“Breach was closed, Frosty,” Cisco snaps. “You know I’m good for that.”

“Really, Cisco, exactly how many times did Grodd manage to sneak through breaches you swore you closed? Are you absolutely _sure_ he’s not some plant?”

“I’m sure,” Bart says. He’s got goosebumps from the chill in the air, but he knows he can’t move for the Impulse suit and the heated microfibers in the fabric without being seen as a threat. He likes being on Caitlin’s good side. The one time he had to fight Killer Frost, he got his ass kicked.

“Impulse, you’re hardly the expert.”

“Injury matches dad’s story. When I went to see him he asked for Iris. He thought I was dad when he first saw me, but he recognized me right after.”

“You were _twelve_ the last time he saw you.” Caitlin’s voice softens slightly. “Sometimes I’m not even sure I recognize you.”

“Bart’s right.” Cisco steps between them. “Out of all the universes out there, we’re the only one I’ve seen that has both Eddie and Bart in the same era.”

“Fine,” Caitlin says, the frost seeping back into her voice. “It’s Eddie, back from the dead. Why call me?”

Bart fumbles a vacutainer out of his pocket. He’d stolen the blood sample from the panel the doctors had ordered. “You did some testing when I first got to the past. Should be able to confirm if Eddie’s from this dimension or not.”

“Not so sure after all,” Caitlin observes.

“Don’t want to stress Aunt Iris out.” Bart tosses the vacutainer over to Caitlin, who catches it without issue. “We’re sure.”

“How did you even manage to get in to see Eddie?” Caitlin asks, “Last I heard he was legally dead and had no next of kin.”

“I grew up in a virtual reality. I picked up some things about computers.”

“You don’t have the patience for hacking,” Caitlin scoffs.

“She’s got your number.” Cisco says, glancing to Bart. “Robin or Felicity?”

Bart deflates. “Robin.”

“Don’t worry, kid, we all have our strengths.” Caitlin laughs as she twirls the vacutainer in her hands. “Now, my lab or yours?”

“They’re both your labs,” Bart says.

Caitlin bristles. “I’m not on Team Flash anymore. I don’t want or need your invitation.”

Bart exchanges a glance with Cisco.

She doesn’t want or need their invitation, but they’ll continue Barry’s policy: Anytime she wants to come back to STAR labs, she’ll be welcome.

* * *

Another day passes and Barry doesn’t come back. Wally’s around, so it’s not like the city’s unprotected, but Wally spends most of his time on Earth-2 with Jesse. They’ve got kids. They’ve got a home. And Earth-2’s Central City needs the Flash just as badly as this one does.

Bart’s been avoiding Iris. He’s never been the best at secrecy and Iris has a decade of reporting under her belt. He’d say he’s lucky she’s distracted, but she’s distracted because Barry is missing.

He suspects Iris is avoiding him, too, both of them in their own orbit. The second she manages to have conversation with Impulse about the crisis, he’ll be forced to tell her what he saw.

Dad running fast enough to disintegrate.

Iris would rather follow Cisco’s theories, let him keep opening portals to other Earths on the off chance that Barry is just _lost._ If they ever get together, they’ll have to decide if they want to kill Barry’s Flash persona.

Bart takes to heading to the hospital after classes and before patrol. Eddie’s been moved out of the ICU, into a private room that he can only afford thanks to a generous contribution from Drake Industries. Eddie’s still in the phase where he sleeps a lot, but he’s been steadily more aware each time Bart visits until he finally asks, “Why do they think you’re my cousin?”

“Hacking,” Bart says.

Eddie frowns. “That’s illegal and I’m law enforcement.”

“You’re dead,” Bart says. “The badge doesn’t count anymore. I took a criminal law course.”

“They teach that in criminal law?”

“I don’t know.” Bart kicks his feet up against the bed. “I’ve only been to two classes this semester.”

“You should go to your classes,” Eddie says. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I said I’m your cousin because, I am. Probably. Nephew at least. You know how I’m not from this era? Eobard Thawne was my grandfather.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “We’re _related_?”

“Distantly.”

“I shot myself,” he says.

“I remember.”

“I shot myself because I was his descendant. Because removing myself from the equation removed him.” The heart monitors spikes, his face turning red. “Bart, I could have erased your existence.”

“You didn’t.”

“I could have.”

Bart blows the bangs back from his eyes. “The way dad told it, you saved everyone. And we hadn’t explained my family tree. You couldn’t have known.”

Eddie still looks distressed.

Bart makes a snap decision. Even if Caitlin’s tests come back negative, even if Eddie is some artifact from an alternate reality, he’s close enough. “Hey, I was thinking, you mind if I bring Aunt Iris with me tomorrow?”

Eddie’s still gaunt from the surgery, strung up in tubing like an insect in a spider web, but his grin is the only bright thing Bart’s seen since the Flash disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

Even after she married Barry, Aunt Iris had never been mom. Bart hadn’t known his father, but he’d had a mother, Melody Thawne. He’d only spent a few weeks with her before he had to go on the run with Grandma Iris.

As much as Bart loves Iris, he’d reserved mom for someone else.

Besides, Iris hadn’t married Barry until Bart was seventeen, their courtship glacially paced thanks to Eddie’s death and Barry’s unexpected jump into fatherhood. After that long calling her Aunt Iris no one expected him to change.

It’s weird to see Iris alone in the apartment. Barry and Bart had moved in about month after Bart ran to the past and by the time Iris moved in, years later, Bart was spending his weekends with the Titans and later, at his dorm room on campus. Bart wasn’t used to seeing her there without Dad.

Iris sits on the couch, her laptop on the arm rest, the rest of the cushions scattered with scraps of paper for her research. Barry had converted one of the bedrooms into an office for her years ago. Bought a desk with the promised that neither of them would use super speed in the room where she was researching.

Iris laughed and stuck to the couch. She said picking up papers was the best way to bring new information to the forefront.

When Bart blurs into the room today, phasing through the door rather than opening it, it knocks her research into a room full of loose leaf confetti. Iris looks up, her face a mask of hope.

It falls when she recognizes him.

A second later, she erases the disappointment from her face, but she has to know Bart saw it.

“Hey, kid,” she says.

“YouthoughtIwasBarry,huh?”

She’s gotten better at picking up his high speed chatter through the years, but even if she hadn’t, it was an easy guess at what he’d said. She shakes her head. “Silly, huh?”

“Notsosilly,” Bart says. “Happensalot.”

He sits down next to her on the couch, his back straight, the gap between them obvious. She studies him for a moment and then lifts an arm to let him nestle into her side. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I know you're hurting just as much as I am.”

“ImissDad,” he says.

“Me too, sweetie.” She shuffles her laptop from her knees onto the counter. “What do you say we order about five pizzas and spend a night in?”

“What will you eat?” Bart asks.

Iris shoves him in the shoulder. Bart jostles her back, both of them grinning.

“Are you here to say something or are you just trying to eat me out of house and home.”

“I can multitask,” Bart says. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while.”

“About Barry?”

“No,” Bart counters. “Cisco had been opening breaches, you know in case dad slipped realities. And after he closed one of them, a _person_ fell out.”

“Please tell me this isn’t another Harrison Wells.”

Bart shakes his head. “It was Eddie Thawne.”

* * *

The hospital staff recognizes Bart on sight, but Iris gets some curious looks. They’ve moved Eddie to a private room about a week ago. Bart grabs the door and has it half open before he realizes Iris is still standing in the hall.

He lets the handle turn back to closed.

“You okay?”

“It’s our anniversary,” Iris whispers.

“It’s June. You and dad were married in May.”

“Eddie and me. This was the date we’d set. Before…”

Bart wraps her up in a hug.

“I don’t know why I’m freaking out,” Iris mutters against his shoulder. “I used to dream about this. Even when I married Barry, there were some days when I rolled over and I was surprised he wasn’t there. Does that make me a bad person?”

“You’re the best,” Bart tells her. “Dad thought so. I do, too. Eddie’s going to think you’re a jerk for making me stop halfway through opening the door. I told him I was bringing you today.”

She laughs, pulling back from the hug.

“Seriously,” Bart jokes. “He’s beyond sick of me. I think he’d take _anyone_ else.”

Iris swipes the tears from the corner of her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “Well, I there’s only one thing to do then. What have you told him?”

“Almost nothing,” Bart admits. “Cisco thinks he might be another Earth’s Eddie.”

“What about you?”

Bart shrugs.

Iris reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Cisco was right about you. Ninety percent impulse.”

“One hundred percent Impulse,” Bart corrects. “We moving or what?”

He grabs Iris’s hand and keeps her marching towards the door.  He pulls it open, plastering a cheery grin on his face. “Hey, Uncle Eddie. I brought a visitor!”

Eddie pushes himself up on the hospital bed

“Iris!”

She’s at his side in an instant. “Eddie.”

Bart slips out of the room.

* * *

“Reckless,” Caitlin says.

Bart rolls his eyes. “Impulsive.”

“Stupid,” Caitlin snips.

“Lay off the kid,” Cisco says. “He lasted a whole week.”

“If you’re wrong about him,” Caitlin says. “If he has to go back to wherever the hell he came from, this soon after _Barry_ , it’ll kill Iris.”

“Careful,” Cisco cautions. “Almost sounds like you care.”

“Screw you.”

“You know, you did this blood test faster when Bart came back in time and that was ten years ago.” Cisco taunts. “Either you’re losing your touch or you miss hanging out with us.”

Caitlin gripped the corners of the desk, enough so that the freeze starts crawling to Bart’s perch. He zips off, frowning. Caitlin sneers. “You’re right. I don’t have to stay here for this. I was holding off because breachers have fooled the tests before, but everything I’ve run so far says he’s the same guy, right down to the remnants of the portal.”

“Then it’s our Eddie.”

“I never said that,” Caitlin retorts. “When this blows up in your faces, I want the rights to say I told you so.”

“Why are you so sure?”

Caitlin reaches up to touch Bart’s cheeks. It’s impossible to hide the flinch, but he’s never really minded the cold when her face looks like this. Soft, like it’s still a warning. Like she’s still on his side. “You should know better than anyone, Impulse. Nothing comes for free.”

* * *

Wally does the rounds through the city that night. With the rumors about Barry’s death circulating, they’d been fearing a spike in crime. Impulse lets Wally takes the fights and spends the day running victims to cover. He clears the building that’s on fire. Deposits outside the police station and then circles the empty docks where the Flash disappeared for almost an hour before calling it a night.

Cisco had left hours ago, and Wally would do another hour’s work before catching a portal back home.

Bart hangs his suit up next to the Flash’s untouched spare, and spins back on Cisco’s rolling chair.

“This is all so… touching.”

Bart speeds behind the two costumes like they’ll somehow be able to protect him.

Leonard Snart watches him with amusement, the cold gun on his hip. “Relax, kid. I’m not here to make trouble.”

It must just be a cold-themed supervillain day.

“I’m a legal adult,” Bart says.

“It’s okay, kiddo, I believe you. And it’s only a little because I remember when you were playing dress up. You and I have some matters to discuss.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because the underground’s been chattering. Your old man’s dead.”

“Gone,” Barry corrects.

Snart waves a hand. “Not much difference between dead and gone if you’re not coming back either way.”

Bart sighs. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right. Condolences. I liked your dad, opinions about parenting you aside. He knew how to play the game.”

Despite himself, Bart smiles. The first time Snart had kidnapped him, he’d been terrified, trapped in an icy pit for almost sixteen hours, shivering and half-sure he was doomed. Almost a year later, he’d learned that Barry had bartered his identity for Bart’s release and that Leonard Snart had some standards.

Captain Cold didn’t hurt kids and considered dressing them up in costume to fight dangerously close to that line.

The other kidnappings had been friendlier, like social service visits only ice-themed. Bart got various books shoved in his hand about potential alternate career paths to superheroing. Medicine, painting. Even the NASCAR circuit since ‘apparently you Allens are all speed junkies.’ Barry put Snart in Iron Heights after every incident, but when he escaped, the Flash never seemed disappointed.

Because unlike a lot of the battles the Flash had fought through the years, fighting Captain Cold wasn’t life or death. For Barry, fighting Cold was _fun._

“Why are you here, Snart?”

“The underground has been… tittering. The petty criminals are licking their wounds, same as the rest of the city, but they’re talking. Word is the city’s up for grabs without the Flash to protect it.”

Bart’s heart twists. “The Flash is out there.”

“That’s not the Flash,” Snart says. “That’s the kid who used to zoom around the city wearing bright yellow. He doesn’t live here anymore and he’s pretty clearly not your dad. You can tell that much with a glance. People have noticed. And if I know the West kid, he won’t stay forever.”

“He’s helping.”

“I’m helping, too,” Snart says. “In fact, I’m going to do you a favor.”

“What kind of a favor?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, the Museum of Art is unveiling a new painting on tour from London, very prestigious. I’m going to steal it.”

“Sounds like a crime more than a favor.” Bart folds his arms over his chest. “I can arrest you now and save you the trouble.”

Snart lets out a soft huff of laughter. “I’m telling you this because it would be in the best interest for the city if the Flash were to stop me. Publically. Anything less and every mobsters in this city attempts to crown themselves king.”

Bart looks at his feet. “Wally…”

“Wally West does not look a thing like the Flash, but we both know who does.” Snart inclines his head in a sort of half nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Red. Impress me.”

“And if you see Impulse instead?” Bart asks.

“Impulse will have a much harder road impressing me.”

* * *

Bart runs a few hundred miles to Gotham to bang on the door to Tim Drake’s apartment. It’s just past four AM which is about the time Red Robin tends to be wrapping up patrol. He phases through the walls of Tim’s apartment, which causes sixteen different alarms. A second later, a slightly wild-eyed, unmasked Tim Drake fires a shrunken at his shoulder. Bart dodges it easily, plucking the spinning blade from the air. He turns it over in his hand. “Hi, Tim. Can I keep this?”

“ _Bart_?” Tim rubs a hand over his eyes, blinking like he’s half sure he’s hallucinating. “What are you doing in Gotham? You know Batman doesn’t like having metas around.”

“I’m not here to see Batman, I’m here to see you.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Only three back home.” Bart sits down on Tim’s couch. “Captain Cold just crashed STAR labs and told me he was going to steal something tomorrow.”

“Your villains are ridiculous. Did you arrest him?”

“Of course not. That’s what tomorrow’s for.”

Tim fixes him with a flat glare. It’s a pretty good Batman impression, or would have been if Bart wasn’t five inches taller than him.

“…I need some help,” Bart relents.

“I can rearrange some Wayne Industries things if you need backup in Central. I’d just have to make a few calls.”

“Not that kind of help.” Bart squeezes his eyes shut. “Advice. I need advice. And you’re the only person I know who’s been in this situation.”

“What situation? You’ve fought Captain Cold before.”

“Dad’s gone, Tim. And I don’t think it’s the kind of gone where he gets to come back.”

Tim freezes. “Barry?”

“You had to have heard. It happened in the crisis. He was running and then he was gone.”

“You’ve done that before. I’ve seen you.”

“Not like this.” He shifts. “It’s different with speedsters. I can tell what’s slipping dimensions and what’s time travel and what’s… not being there anymore.”

Slowly, Tim inches towards him and offers him a hug. Bart leans into it, trying not to cling. Tim’s never been great about prolonged physical contact, but he’s always been able to see when Bart needs it. “I’m so sorry. If you would have told me, I would have been there.”

“Gotham had its own issues.” Bart sniffs, blinking a few times to keep the tears away. “But that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Cold came to see me because he wanted to fight the Flash. And you’re the only person I’ve met who’s done it before.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Worn someone else’s costume.”

“Oh. That.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Being Robin?” There’s a fond look on Tim’s face. “Absolutely. But after a while it’s wasn’t someone else’s costume. It was mine.”

“Didn’t both your predecessor and successor try to kill you?”

Tim shrugs. “Don’t make any decisions about what your dad would have wanted for you based on my insane family. Do you really think Barry would get mad at you for becoming the Flash?”

“Of course not.” Bart stares at his hands, wishing he’d come in costume. It was always easier to have conversations like this through that kind of filter. “We even talked to it a couple times.”

“Than what’s the problem? You always said you wanted to be the Flash.”

“Yeah,” Bart cries. “But not _yet._ Not this soon. Not…”

“Not because somebody died,” Tim finishes.

Bart’s breath hitches.

Because someone _died_. His dad. They don’t have a body or anything, but _his dad died._

“Hey,” Tim says. “You’re okay. How about you crash here tonight.”

“I thought Batman hated metas.”

“Like I’m telling Batman.” Tim scoffs. “Come on. It’ll be just like old times.”

Bart drifts a moment, thinking about the early days of young justice. He blows out a puff of air. “Early days were way more fun.”

Tim doesn’t answer because he’s fallen asleep, his mouth slightly open, his cheek mashed against the side of the couch. Bart rolls his eyes, but he lets himself settle in, too. Following Tim’s lead is usually a sound tactical choice.


	3. Chapter 3

_“What do you want to be when you grow up?”  Barry quotes. “That’s not a bad topic for an essay.”_

_Bart frowns at the paper in front of him. He’s fourteen, a few days short of his second year in the past. He’s gotten better about a lot of things, but school’s never come easily for him. When he’d made his first run back he hadn’t even known how to write. He moans dramatically, throwing his head back._

_Barry reaches up and tilts his head back level. “You know, you don’t have to have your life figured out, right?”_

_“That’snotit.IknowwhatI’mgoingtobewhenIgrowup.”_

_“You do?” Barry asks._

_“’Course,” Bart says. “I’mgonnabetheFlash.”_

_“The Flash, huh.” Barry twirls a pencil in his hand. “That title’s kind of taken.”_

_Bart scoffs. “Yeah, but you’re old.”_

_“Old?” Mock indignation. Barry knocks Bart lightly on the back of the head, too fast for him to stop it. “I’ll put you in your place, you young whippersnapper.”_

_Barry throws a half dozen mock punches, cutting back to open hand taps before they land. Bart only manages to block the last two._

_“Graaaampa,” Bart whines._

_“Oh, no, calling me old is one thing, but you do not get to start calling me Grampa again. And I definitely see your attempt at distraction. Why do you want to be the Flash?”_

_“BecausetheFlashisthebest. Andoneday, I’mgoingtobethebest.”_

_“What’s wrong with Impulse being the best?”_

_“I’mallowedtobeImpulsenow?”_

_“Definitely not until your older.”_

_“DoyounotwantmetobetheFlash?”_

_Barry hesitates. Then he puts a hand on either one of Bart’s shoulders. “I want you do be safe, happy, and when the time comes, I want you to be better than I ever was.”_

_“That’snotananwer.”_

_“It doesn’t need to be.” Barry slings an arm over Bart’s shoulder. “I’ll be proud of you no matter who you end up. But first, I’m going to play the bad guy. Write your paper. Preferably about a profession other than superhero.”_

_He holds out the pencil out for until Bart takes it. “I hate you.”_

_“There’s the surly teenager Joe warned me would come.” Barry ruffles Bart’s hair fondly. “And for what it’s worth, you’d be a great Flash someday.”_

Bart wakes up when Tim elbows him in the face. He’d managed to fall asleep on top of him, something he’d not done since they were kids. “Ow! You’re the worst.”

“You’re the one who talks nonstop in your sleep,” Tim shoots back. “Not conducive to rest.”

“Says the guy with the world’s boniest elbows. Doesn’t Bats feed you?”

“That’s Agent A,” Tim replies. “And I know a plea for food when I hear it. You sticking around for breakfast?”

“I need to get back,” Bart says ruefully. Breakfast out with Tim usual meant IHOP and stacks of pancakes. “Thanks for letting me crash.”

“Anytime,” Tim says.

Bart hesitates at the door, the original purpose of his trip still nagging at him. “You ever thought about it? Taking over for Batman.”

“No,” Tim says. “I could if I had to, but that’s not for me.”

“Oh.” Bart zips into his suit, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Nightwing did it for a while,” Tim offers after a second. “While Batman was gone. But I don’t think he wanted that for any of us.”

Bart frowns all the way through his run back home.

* * *

He gets back just as Iris is leaving the apartment. She stops at the front door, her face creased in confusion. “I didn’t hear you come in last night. You back to staying on campus?”

“CrashedwithRob.”

“Robin?” Iris asks. “In Gotham?”

“Wanted to see a friend,” Bart says. “Where you heading to? Hospital or newspaper?”

“Police station, actually,” Iris says. “I was going to try and talk to my dad about how to get Eddie legally resurrected. And then probably back to the hospital because dad will want to see his old partner again. Want to tag along?”

Bart agrees before he can stop himself. He has a few thousand things he could be doing. Not the least of which is trying to find Captain Cold before he sets off a ridiculously overblown plot to steal the… something. He was going to steal something and Bart should have definitely written that part down.

Iris smiles over at him and grabs his hand, dragging him towards her car.

He starts complaining out of reflex. There’s never a reason to be in a car when he could just run them wherever they needed to be, but Iris likes the slowness of the car, the chance to sing to the radio or listen to the news. It’s not until they’re on the road, locked in the habitual argument about the speed limits as suggestions ( _fasterfasterfaster)_ rather than hard lines ( _Remember how most of our family is in law enforcement?)_ when he spots it.

Barry’s wedding ring is gone from her finger.

“Stop the car,” he says.

“There’s not really a place to—”

“Pleasestopthecar.”

Iris pulls off onto the shoulder of the highway. Bart, stumbles out of the car breathing hard. The world feels like it’s spinning. He’s half afraid he’s slipped into relative time because it feels like an eternity before Iris gets out of the car, her face a mask of worry. “Are you all right? Are you sick? I’ve got a couple of your protein bars stashed in the trunk.”

He’s so mad at her, he can’t speak. He sees her hand moving towards his shoulder in slow motion and Bart skitters back several paces.

“Talk to me, kid,” Iris says.

“Ithasn’tevenbeenamonth.”

“OK, I love that you’re talking, but talk slow for me.”

Bart swallows. “What happened to your ring?”

The words hit like physical blows, Iris taking one, two steps back towards the car as the others on the highway whiz by.

“Bart...”

“I know he’s gone,” he says. “But it hasn’t even been a month.”

Iris takes a step towards him, but Bart runs the other way.

* * *

Eddie, to his credit, doesn’t even blink when Bart phases through the wall.

“I’m guessing you didn’t sign in today.”

Bart grabs the chair from the bedside and props it up against the door handle.

“Okay, now I’m half sure I’m going to be murdered.”

Right. Probably not a good idea to impede medical staff if needed. Bart sheepishly grabs the chair again and puts it back in its place. He runs a hand through his hair.

Eddie shakes his head fondly. “You look just like your dad when you do that.”

“You know Iris is married, right?”

“Okay… I feel like you’re mad at me for something.” Eddie pushes himself up straighter in bed. “Come on, fake cousin.”

Bart flounders.

“She hadn’t told me,” Eddie says. “But I could… I could tell. Your dad, right?”

Bart nods.

“Figures,” Eddie mumbles.

He sinks down on the chair next to Eddie’s bed. “She stopped wearing the ring.” His eyes flicker up to Eddie. “Which is probably your fault even if it’s absolutely not your _fault_.”

“I think I follow.” Eddie gives him a wry smile. “How long ago did it happen?”

“What?”

“Come on, I’m a detective. I get that no one wanted to upset me after the…” he gestures to his chest, still a mess of bandages. “But you were the one who visited me first. Iris was married but not wearing a ring. How long ago was it?”

“Couple weeks,” Bart says. “Dad saved… he saved a lot of people. Everyone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Bart looks skyward. “He saved _everyone_.”

“You resent him for it.”

“Of course I do. He’s my dad.”

Eddie folds his hands. “I can’t do much to help with you and Barry, but I’ll tell you what… I’ll forgive Iris for marrying someone else, if you forgive her for taking off the ring. Deal?”

Bart considers it for a moment but for all that he tends to react emotionally, he’s never been one to hold grudge. He reaches out to shake Eddie’s hand.

“Great,” Eddie says. “Because I’m pretty sure my only two options for discharge are you and Iris and I doubt you have a house.”

“Think Iris was planning to bring Joe today.” Bart rubs at the back of his neck. “Do me a favor and don’t tell them about this. Joe hasn’t yelled at me for almost a month. I think I’ve fooled him into thinking I’m a rational adult.”

* * *

If he were Captain Cold…

Bart scratches his nose under his goggles. He should ask Cisco or maybe Wally about this, but that’s cheating. He’d watched his dad long enough to know that on some gigs you could ask for help. But on others you had to go it alone.

Captain Cold fell in the latter category. The Flash dealt with Captain Cold. And Bart’s pretty sure that he’d said painting. Not some sort of relic from a museum. Most of the museums closed by five. Unless he’d said he was stealing it from an art gallery.

Bart feels anxiety spiking.

He would have guessed Snart try to pull something during usual hours. He tended to like an audience and if he really did think this was doing the city a favor, he’d wanted people to see it.

Bart’s…

Bart’s terrible at this half of the gig. He circles the city twice. Runs into Wally the second time who laughs and leads him in a game of tag for a few blocks before they part ways. Bart does another two laps and then does the only thing he can think of.

He goes to the Ice Box.

Cisco named it. He’d debated for a while. For a few weeks it was the Chiller, for almost a year it was the Absolute Z. The lair is a warehouse that a STAR labs subsidiary purchased back when Wells was still running the company. Now it is almost always at meat locker temperatures. At any given time, Caitlin has a few dozen experiments going. She dabbles in everything from cryogenics to cellular regeneration. Bart had been banned of Caitlin’s lab for the first time when he was twelve, back when she was only Caitlin. He’s not sure if that ban had ever been lifted for official STAR labs facilities, but while he was never allowed in Caitlin’s space, Killer Frost doesn’t bother to ban him from her lair.

Bart used to wonder what that said about him. That Caitlin seemed more comfortable with him when she was playing supervillain that she ever did when she on team Flash.

She doesn’t look up from her work when Bart enters, phasing through the same defenses that used to give Barry a minor electric shock. “Been a while since you visited me, Impulse. Thought your dad had scared you off for good.”

Bart looks down to his costume guiltily. He’d planned to stop Snart, yes, but after staring at his dad’s costumes for a few long seconds, he’d decided it didn’t feel right to put it on so soon. “How'd you know it was me?”

“You vibrate on a different frequency. The entire world speeds up when you get here.”

Bart lets a grin slip over his features. “Aw, you missed me too. I thaw your cold dead heart.”

“Don’t be lewd,” Caitlin says.

Bart balks. That was absolutely not his intention.

There’s not even a hint of brown to her eyes anymore, nothing but the cold ice blue. He pushes the goggles up to his hairline. “Just happy to be on the guest list.”

“You’ve never done anything I consider unforgivable.”

And _Dad_ did? _Cisco?_

“Come on, kid you know the story.” She must have read the surprise on his face because her own twists in disbelief. “One of them told you, didn’t they? Even if your dad didn’t want to talk, Vibe is usually all too happy to do it for him.”

He vaguely remembers Barry and Cisco sitting him down to let him know that Caitlin wouldn’t be coming back to STAR labs with them. That he should be on his guard if he sees her on the street.

Honestly, he’d stopped paying attention within the first ten seconds of the conversation. He’d known Barry and Cisco well enough to nod at all the right places. “My focus isn’t what you call great.”

“If you were anyone else, I’d think you were lying.”

Bart shrugs, smiling sheepishly. Caitlin had diagnosed him with ADHD when he’d first come to the past. Getting medication that reliably worked was a struggle. His body tended to burn right through it. He knew he was pretty spacy at the best of times, but he’d really been trying. “What happened? One day everything was fine and the next you stopped being there.”

Caitlin pushes herself back from her microscope, stepping around her desk. “I guess you wouldn’t have known, being kidnapped and all.”

“Which time?”

“And see this is the problem with all of you. It never stops. You think it’s supposed to be just one time, but there’s always another bad guy. Always another level you have to go to if you want to save people.”

Bart frowns. “That’s a dark way to look at it.”

“You were kidnapped,” Caitlin recites, her eyes flashing. “Barry’s speed was gone. There was a good chance it was a speedster holding you. As Barry put it, we— _they_ only had one option. They sent me in. About thirty people in the room and I let the cold go.” She steps closer to Bart. “I touched one of them on my way to get you and he shattered. He looked like he was barely twenty and then he was in pieces on the ground. And do you know what Barry said to me when I brought you out? Not, _Thanks for saving my son._ He said, _Oh god, Caitlin, what did you do?_ ’” She draws a line of ice in the air with her fingertips and then crushes it in her palm. “I did exactly what he asked of me.”

Bart knows he’s staring, but he can’t help himself. He licks his lips. “I don’t remember that.”

Caitlin scoffs. “Of course you don’t. I didn’t save _you_. I saved a kid who looked just like you.”

 _Inertia._ Bart remembers. The evil twin who’d managed to infiltrate his life, pretending to be him. He’d been secretly convinced that Dad, Iris and Joe all liked the twin better. Because in a lot of ways, Inertia _was_ better. More focused. Driven.

He would have been a great Flash.

He probably would have remembered to find Captain Cold.

“It was never worth it,” Caitlin says. “I could feel myself changing with every step I took and I couldn’t help but remember Barry looking at me like a monster. So I made a promise to myself. If I was going to become… _this._ ” She gestures to her face, her eyes, her snow white hair. “I would be damn sure I never used it to help the Flash again.”

“But you’ve helped me,” Bart says. “Anytime I asked”

“You’re not the Flash,” she replies. “Now I know you didn’t track me down for some kind of sob story. What do you need, Impulse?”

Bart gapes for a moment. He’d wanted to ask her about Captain Cold’s painting heist. He’s pretty sure the two of them keep track of each other out of spite. Dad used to make fun of their feud, affecting Snart’s theatrics as he heaved a water gun to his shoulder, intoning, _This town isn’t big enough for two ice themed villains, Snow._

Bart suddenly doesn’t think he can ask.

Snart wants to fight the Flash.

And Killer Frost doesn’t help the Flash.

Bart darts forward and gives her a quick hug. “IjustwantedtosayImissyou.”

She looks down at him, bewildered and even through the ice blue of her eyes, all he can see is Caitlin.


	4. Chapter 4

Captain Cold made off with a painting worth four point two million dollars. Stolen from the Central City Museum of Art which makes a lot of sense. Wally’s the one to bring it up as he and Bart consult with Cisco about the state of the city. “I can’t believe I missed a Cold gig!” Wally says. “Never got to help out on one of those before!”

He never got to help because Captain Cold was Barry’s favorite. It’s the same reason Dad had ceded the Pied Piper and the Trickster to Kid Flash. Bart usually got stuck with the junior villains who were trying to claw their way out of someone else’s influence.

And then there was Inertia, but the less said about him, the better.

“I don’t like that he’s pulling something like this so soon after Barry,” Cisco says, wiping the smile from Wally’s face. “It’s almost like.”

“He’s testing us,” Bart says.

Bart doesn’t think he passed.

“Or at least testing a theory,” Cisco says. “Snart’s smart. A pain in the ass, but smart. There have to be rumors out there.”

“Rumors about Barry?” Wally says. “Would have thought between me and Impulse we were keeping the peace.”

“Bad guys know what the Flash looks like,” Bart says. “And you don’t look like him.”

“Look, just because I’ve got the better looking suit…”

“I don’t think he’s talking about the suit, man,” Cisco cuts in. “I think he’s talking about Barry’s lily white ass. And your linebacker shoulders.”

Wally laughs, brushing some imaginary dirt off of his shoulders.

Bart watches them joke, half expecting Barry to chime in. But the silence where his voice should be is deafening.

After a few minutes Wally offers, “You know I can stick around longer if you guys really need me.”

It’s tempting, but Wally has his own life on another Earth. He has a wife and a pair of kids that show signs of being second-generation speedsters. Bart knows Wally’s always watching them for signs of the potential for a hyperaccelerated aging issue.

“You’re spacing on me again, kid,” Wally says. “You think Impulse is up for covering the city alone?”

“I can do it,” Bart says. “You can go back.”

Wally places two hands over his heart like he’s been wounded, completely missing Bart’s wince. “Ouch. If you don’t want me here, just say it.”

“Of course I want you here,” Bart says. “But I think Jesse and the kids _need_ you there.”

“Man, you remind me so much of Barry sometimes it hurts.” Wally reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Can’t believe you get to handle a Cold job without me. I’m jealous.”

Bart leans into the touch for a microsecond before batting it away. Wally quicks his lips, but pretends he hasn’t noticed.

“Say hi to everyone for me, okay?”

“We might be up for a visit in a couple months,” Wally promises. “I figure interdimensional travel, not okay for infants. When we hit toddler, we’ll see.”

Cisco drops his goggles into place. “I don’t know how speedsters do it, but the Vibe Express is nothing but smooth sailing.”

Wally meets Bart’s eyes. “You want to break the news to him?”

“Dad never wanted him…”

“Your dad would forgive us. And come on, we both want to see his face.”

“See my face do what?” Cisco demands.

“Cisco, buddy.” Wally puts a hand on Cisco’s shoulder. “We had to be the ones to break it to you.”

“But I spent an entire day puking after the first time you vibed me between dimensions,” Bart says.

“And I’m pretty sure I could taste the color purple for like a week,” Wally adds.

“Dad literally kept smelling salts to make sure he could stay conscious.”

Cisco’s face makes it all worth it.

* * *

 

Bart spends the afternoon hanging out in Eddie’s hospital room, ducking out of sight before the nurses can call him on the fact that it’s well outside visiting hours. Eddie seems more than willing to let him. Iris and Joe are both at work and despite the paperwork in process, the rest of the world still thinks he’s dead.

“I have a ghost problem,” Eddie tells the nurse with a complete straight face when she comments on the open window. “It’s been going on ever since I woke up.”

The nurse frowns at him, scribbling something down on her pad before turning to leave.

Bart cracks open the door to the bathroom.

“She’s probably ordering me a psych evaluation.”

“You just came back from the dead,” Bart says. “I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”

“You’re right. I’m basically Jesus.”

“Okay, maybe you do need the psych evaluation.”

“No psych evaluations,” Eddie says. “They’re sending me home tomorrow and we are not delaying that.”

Bart sits up in his chair. “They’re sending you home?”

“Yeah.” Eddie grins. “That’s what happens when you get better.”

Bart feels his smile falter. “Where.”

“Iris…” Eddie starts but then he reads the look on his face. “Ah. I should probably ask you first. Because you live there too.”  

“I don’t,” Bart says. “I mean, I _do,_ but I’m mostly on campus these days.”

“It’s okay if it feels weird. Just because I used to date Iris doesn’t mean she’s still in love with…”

“She is,” Bart interrupts, thinking of the picture in Iris’s wallet. The way news that Eddie was back was the first thing to make her smile since Barry disappeared. He’s aware that his features have started vibrating in an effort to keep his voice from breaking. “I mean it might be a while before she’s ready to do anything about it, but it would be fine. You could make her happy. You guys both deserve to be happy.”

“Bart, your dad….”

“Would want you both to be happy, too. Iris especially.”

“I don’t want to look like I’m replacing anyone,” Eddie says.

“You’re not.” He feels his face darken. _Bart’s the one on deck for the Flash._ “I promise, you’re not. It would be good to have someone else around.”

Eddie watches him for another minute and then grabs for the remote to the TV, switching it to the news. Bart kicks his feet up against Eddie’s bed and leans back in the chair to watch, grateful for the distraction. Bart wonders vaguely if the news anchor is someone Iris knows or if TV and newspaper journalists don’t talk to each other. Eddie wordlessly reaches over to his tray of food and hands Bart a carton of jello. It’s lemon, far from Bart’s favorite flavor, but he takes it as the peace offering it is.

The newscast leads with the aftermath of the crisis and Central City’s semi-annual rebuild in progress and then moves into Captain Cold’s heist last night; pulled off unnoticed except for the melting ice around the doorframe that served as a calling card.

“ _That guy_ ’s still around?” Eddie asks.

“He was Dad’s favorite,” Bart mumbles.

“Favorite villain? Did that actually become a thing? I remember him kidnapping you.”

“Fifteen times in the last ten years,” Bart says. “After the first one, he was pretty crash for a bad guy. Always brought enough food.”

“I don’t even pretend to understand you. Do you rank your kidnappers by how well they feed you?”

Bart blinks around his mostly empty package of jello. “How else is there to rank them?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Good food or not, that’s no real reason to give him a free pass.”

“It wasn’t a free pass. I was patrolling last night! Me and Wally, both. I didn’t find him.”

“Wally?”

“Iris’s brother. He’s a speedster, too. He lives in an alternate universe.”

“I bet every part of that has a very long story attached.”

“Icandoitforyouattopspeed,” Bart offers.

Eddie stares at him blankly.

“Or not,” Bart says.

“I’ll ask Iris later.” Eddie points toward the TV. “But for now it looks like Snart’s calling you out.”

Bart frowns up at the screen.

 _In a bizarre twist to last night’s robbery,_ the anchor intones, _the missing painting was found in a different wing of the museum. Though returned, the work has been defaced, now bearing a message._

The camera zooms in on the painting, the words in a cool ice blue.

**_Interesting play, Impulse._ **

“Oh,” Bart says. “That could be bad.”

“Not used to getting called out by supervillains?”

“That’s Dad’s supervillain,” Bart rushes to explain. “Not mine, not Wally’s, not the Green Arrow’s, not anybody’s but the Flash’s. And the Flash didn’t show up.”

“And Snart didn’t even bother directing his taunt towards the Flash,” Eddie finishes. “Which means…”

It means that Captain Cold just confirmed to the underworld that the Flash is _gone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative chapter count for this is six. Believe it or not we're getting close.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s wouldn't be the first time Bart’s put on the Flash’s costume.

No, that incident happened when he was about thirteen years old. Barry had skipped dimensions and they desperately needed some help, so Bart in all his misguided teenage glory had tried on his Dad’s spare costume. He’d looked ridiculous in the suit, could barely move because of the lengths of the sleeves and the pants, and the cowl flopped off of his head whenever he started running. He remembers the costume being huge, the fabric oddly stiff since the built in padding was at the wrong places for someone of Bart’s size.

Jay Garrick stepped up to the plate instead. Or at least Hunter Zolomon mascaraing as Jay Garrick. Impulse ran support since Barry was on Earth-2, unable to ground him.

Last time Bart checked, he was two inches taller than his dad. Still on the slighter side, but he could probably bulk out a little if he needed to. He reaches out to touch the fabric as Cisco rounds the corner.

“Good,” Cisco says around his lollypop. “I mean we have a situation that’s definitely not good, but good you’re here.”

“SawthenewsatEddie’s,” Bart says. He winces at the speed of it. This always happens when his nerves start to fray. “Snart?”

“Yeah, Cold just confirmed a whole lot of rumors for people who knew the right questions to ask. We need to do damage control.”

Bart reaches out to touch the flash insignia. Kid Flash had one too. Bart never bothered, instead keeping the design from the original suit he’d worn when he travelled from the future. Barry had asked once, if he wanted the unifying Flash design, but Bart liked having one piece of himself still tied to his old life.

Even if he could barely remember what the future was like.

“You all right, Bart?” Cisco asks.

“I’llgetthere.” Bart takes his hand off the Flash logo. “Hey, Iwasthinking maybe we should redesigntheFlash’scostume.”

“The costume is quite possibly my finest piece of textile engineering.” Cisco folds his arms over his chest. He’d outfitted half the superheroes they know, but Bart knows he’d always saved the best tech for Barry. “Doesn’t need any altering. Barry never had any complaints.”

“Imean…” Bart swallows. “I mean for it to fit me.”

Cisco stares at him for a long time. Bart feels like he’s vibrating through his skin. He won’t be surprised if he accidentally phases through the floor. Slowly, Cisco pulls the sucker out of his mouth and uses it to gesture in Bart’s direction. “That….” He pauses, glancing at the suit. “Would make a hell of a lot of sense.”

Bart feels some of the tension leech from his frame. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. City’s freaking out because we don’t have a Flash. And the simplest solution is we given them a Flash.” Cisco pops the sucker back in his mouth. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

“Most people won’t notice the height difference,” Cisco observes, “But we might want to come up with some way to hide those eyes of yours.”

“Costume can’t be too different. If I’m obviously not Dad that defeats the whole purpose.” He hesitates. “But if you could somehow let me keep my goggles…”

“All requests will be considered,” Cisco says, “But you cannot fight greatness.”

“Whatever.” Bart scuffs his shoe on the ground. “Just make me look like Dad, okay?”

* * *

Bart loves being Impulse.

He’s always loved being Impulse. From the first time he heard the name, it’s been a part of him. As much as he tries to think things through, he’s at his best when he acts on instincts. He likes the thought of the wind in his hair rather than the smooth cowl, the goggles for protection rather than an armored cowl.

He runs up the wall of the high rise and phases through one of the upper story windows.

Tim barely flinches as a wave of his papers whooshes into the air.

“Okay,” Bart says. “You really are impossible to rattle.”

“Six sighting of a lightning streak in the city already,” Tim says. “I knew you were coming. If you don’t watch it, there will be rumors you’ve moved.”

Bart collapses into the chair across from Tim’s desk.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Was it really necessary to come in costume?”

“It’s my farewell tour,” Bart says. “I’m going to miss being Impulse.”

“You’re going to do it then? Be the Flash?”

“I’m the only one who really fits the description,” Bart says. “And I think Captain Cold may have started a mob war.”

“A mob war?”

“I know, right? He’s trying to turn us into Gotham!”

“I don’t really think you’re in danger of that.” Tim looks at the paper in his hands. “But if you’ve got a mob war to deal with, wouldn’t it have been easier to call?”

“Why talk on the phone when I can see my old buddy, Rob, face to face? It only takes a couple extra minutes to get here.”

“Because I still have a secret identity and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Bart’s face falls. “Right. I always forget about that.”

Tim’s phone buzzes. He rolls his eyes, but picks it up, reading, “B says he’s sorry about Barry.”

Another buzz.

“And also that you need to get out of Gotham.” Tim winces. “Sorry. He’s kind of a killjoy. I don’t mind if you hang out. Just do it in civvies if you’re hanging out here.”

Bart hugs his arms to his chest. He wants to wear the uniform as long as he possibly can.

And not only because it lets him pretend Dad might come back.

“Bart,” Tim says.

Bart looks up at him. The whole world is tilted yellow through the goggles. “What?”

“Being the Flash doesn’t mean that Impulse has to be gone,” Tim says.

Bart lets out a dry laugh.

“I’m serious,” Tim says. “Be the Flash if the city needs you to be the Flash, but you’re allowed to be Impulse, too. If you need it.”

Bart turns the idea over in his head and… finds that he likes it. The Flash doesn’t need to be in the city full time. Back when Flash, Kid Flash and Impulse were all active, it wasn’t unusual for them to split up patrols so people could get a night off. He feels the knot in his chest loosen as he darts forward to give Tim a quick hug. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” His phone buzzes again. “But Bruce is about five minutes away and if you don’t want a lecture, you might want to leave.”

* * *

Cisco has the suit ready by the time he gets back.

The suit looks just like Barry’s. It’s cut slightly differently, but that’s mostly to draw attention away from the slight differences in their build.

“Couldn’t swing the goggles,” Cisco apologizes. “Went with lenses instead. Similar effect in the long run, but more Flash aesthetic.”

The lenses in the cowl are white and opaque, more than good enough to hide Bart’s eye color. He reaches out to touch one of them.

Cisco bats his hands away. “You’ll smudge it."

“No anti-smudging tech?” Bart teases.

“Felt like that should take a back seat to infrared capabilities, and the X-ray feature.”

“Can it shoot lasers?”

“You’re fast, you’re not an X-Man. And I thought you could outrun a laser.”

“Lasers are cool,” Bart says. “We had goggles that shot lasers in the future.”

“Okay, I know you’re messing with me now, you little shit.”

Bart grins back at him, but they both realize the conversation is a distraction.

“Go ahead then,” Cisco says. “Try it on. I’ve got your specs saved from your Impulse gear, but I don’t remember if that was pre or post growth spurt.”

“Give me a second,” Bart says. “This is weird.”

“Only as weird as we make it.”

His speed lets him stretch out a second for as long as he needs it so Cisco won’t be able to read the doubt in his eye as he flashes into the suit.

“We’ll get it customized for you as you get used to the setup.” Cisco says. “For now, we’re sticking with Barry’s preference until you decide what you need.”

The fit isn’t far off from Bart’s old gear, but he can already tell a few things aren’t set up right for him. There’s too much padding for side to side movement. Barry had always been one to dodge and weave around obstacles while Bart prefers a straight on approach, vibrating through things that get in his way. The boots are a hair stiffer than he prefers. Ever since he broke his hand throwing his first supersonic punch, he prefers the gloves much heavier.

“It’s great,” he says.

“You haven’t even looked at yourself, bro.”

Bart reluctantly lifts his head and heads to the dressing rooms.

When he sees his reflection, his breath catches. He looks like his dad. Enough that he has to check for Barry over his shoulder.

He forces an inhale and then lets himself take note of the differences.

Because there are differences. The white lenses over the eyes remind him more of Red Robin’s domino mask than anything Flash related. It won’t be visible when he’s running, but there’s a slight color change between the red in his torso and the red of his sleeves, one the follows the same lines as the pattern on his Impulse suit. When his eyes drift up to the logo on the chest, the lightning bolt isn’t set against white, but rather red, like it had been the first time Bart saw the Flash.

“What do you think?” Cisco asks. “Throwback seems appropriate.”

“It’s different,” Bart says. “Won’t they notice the difference?”

“It’s still a Flash logo,” Cisco says. “Barry’s used it before. And…”

“And I’m not Barry,” Bart finishes.

“That’s okay.” Cisco reaches up and squeezes his shoulder. “It’s just my way of telling you I don’t expect you to be.”

Bart nods, breathing hard. “Okay.”

* * *

Even for all the differences in costume, running feels the same.

“How we doing tonight?” Cisco asks.

“Suit’sstillalittlestiff,” Bart says. He doesn’t bother slowing it down. Cisco has an algorithm for decoding his speech and he deserves that little piece of comfort.

“The suit is a work of art.”

“SureIcan’tswapforgoggles?”

“We can take about a slow build for any major changes to the design. Remember, we’re trying to make sure no one notices. Besides, you’ll come to realize that my design is clearly the best one.”

“Yeahyeah,” Bart mumbles. “Whathaveyougotforme?”

“Nothing big, but you might want to check around the docks. Seems to have an unusual amount of traffic for this time of night.”

“On it,” Bart says.

He hits the docks at a full sprint and finds himself suddenly in the middle of a fire fight.

He only barely notices the first bullet in time to skid around its trajectory. Cisco shouts something in his ear, but the words come in slow and warped badly enough that Bart can barely understand them. He drops to his knees and limbos past a few bullets, summersaulting up and crashing into one of the shooters, dismantling the weapons as he moves.

Only these rounds are _fast._ Not as fast as him, but any gun touting criminal in Central City had long ago stepped up to high velocity rounds. And then hypervelocity. And then…

“Some kind of ultravelocity armor piercing rounds!” Cisco shouts in his ears.

Wait, a second ago, he’d been too accelerated to hear…

He looks down to his stomach and falters.

There’s blood.

There’s a _lot_ of blood.

The bad guy in front of shouts. “I’ve got the fucker.”

He cocks his gun. “Good thing you weren’t dead like Snart said. I wouldn’ta got to kill you myself.”

Bart surges upwards, not even bothering to regulate his speed and drives a shoulder into the man’s chest. He feels bones breaking on contact. He’s pretty sure they're not only his. Two mobsters down which leaves the other side of the altercation. Because they couldn’t have been shooting purely at him.

When he’s not looking for it, a second bullet pierces his shoulder. Bart hisses in pain. There’s blood in his mouth, Cisco shouting in his ear, “Get out kid! You’re vitals are all over the place.”

“That’sbecauseIgotshot,” Bart snaps back.

He weaves through a few other bullets and disarms the other two shooters dismantling their guns and letting them fall to pieces against the pavement. He pauses for a second, makes his back go straight. This is all for nothing if they don’t buy his act. If he lets himself appear injured. The shooters on either side gape at him. “We all heard the Flash was dead.”

“Shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” Bart says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And then, finally, _finally,_ he hears police sirens and a voice shouting, “Hands where I can see them!”

Bart gives a cheeky smile. “That’s my cue. Have fun, boys.”

A few seconds later, he stumbles into the Ice Box, hand pressed against the wound in his side. “Caitlin!” he calls. “Caitlin! I need help.”

He passes out a few steps later.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything is cold.

Everything aches.

Bart lets out a soft moan, moving an arm up to swipe at his runny nose. There’s an IV in the crook of his left elbow. He hears the click of a pair of heels and then his eyes focus just quickly enough to pick out the snow white hair of Killer Frost.

“Caitlin?” Bart asks.

“Flash,” Caitlin greets.

Bart tries to push himself to a sitting position, but a blast of ice pins him to the gurney.

He lets out a hiss of pain, instinctually vibrating his molecules to melt it, but a pair of hands pins either shoulder down, Caitlin’s face appearing in front of his.

“What?” Bart hisses. “I’m not… it’s me. It’s Impulse.”

A hand trails up his cheek, around the edges of the cowl. “Certainly doesn’t look like Impulse. See, the Impulse I know, he’s a little boy. Brash, brave, but fundamentally good. He doesn’t parade around in dead men’s costumes.”

Bart breaks a hand free and tears the cowl from his face. “Caitlin! It’s me. It’s Bart!”

“Thought _Bart_ would be better than the Flash,” she snaps. “Thought he’d realized that the Flash’s way isn’t always the best.”

“I’m not messing with time travel. Or breaches,” Bart promises. “I’m just trying to keep the city in one piece. And that’s a good thing, Caitlin, _you live here, too_.”

Caitlin lowers her hand, warmth seeping back into Bart’s extremities. “It’s a long, slow slide,” she says. “I road it with your dad for longer than I should have.”

“The Flash made a lot of mistakes,” Bart allows. “ _I_ will make a lot of mistakes. But it’ll be easier with the kind of people who will call me out. Caitlin, you make the Flash better.”

“And the Flash made Caitlin Snow worse,” Caitlin counters.

She’s not wrong. Killer Frost has every right to be angry. She’d made some bad choices, too. The choices were still her choices, but in retrospect, Bart can see all the ways she was pushed.

He doesn’t really have a reply so he runs a hand down to his abdomen, where the first of the two bullets had hit. There’s a circular pink scar, already fading into his skin. He suspects his shoulder is in the same condition.

“Thanks for patching me up,” Bart says finally.

“Don’t make a habit of it,” she snaps.

“You know me.” Bart shrugs back into the sleeves of his suit, wincing at the tender area. “One hundred percent Impulse.”

Caitlin brings a hand up to tap twice on the flash logo.

Bart rolls his eyes. “Like that changes anything.”

He turns to go.

“You can still come here,” Caitlin says before he zips out the door. “You know, if you need medical help.”

Bart flips the cowl back into place. “I’ll tell Cisco you said hi.”

“Don’t push it,” Caitlin warns.

“Loveyou,too,” Bart chirps and whizzes out the door.

* * *

“You freaked me out,” Cisco snaps. “Don’t do that.”

“I needed medical attention,” Bart explains. “You’re really bad at medical attention.”

“You went dark after two dozen bullets.”

“Only two of them hit.”

“ _Only_ two of them,” Cisco says. He waves a hand. “Barry—”

“Barry’s not here,” Bart says. “And I heal fast.”

“That’s some serious BS. I know your pain threshold is pretty much the same as mine. You think Barry would want you getting shot?”

“Barry’s not _here_. I went to Caitlin.”

“And she helped you?” Cisco’s eyes bounce up and down as if to take in the costume. “When you were wearing that?”

“She’s a doctor,” Bart says. “You and Dad always forgot that. Even after everything else. She’s still a doctor.”

Some of the anger floods from Cisco’ s frame. “You’re right, man… I mean, of course you’re right, but I still need you to tell me where you’re going if you’re hurt.”

Bart spits on his hand and holds it out to Cisco. “Deal.”

“You are all sorts of disgusting,” Cisco says. “What are you, twelve?”

“Do we want to get technical?” Bart asks. “Because if we’re counting body time instead of mental age, twelve’s not far off.”

“It’s hilarious that you think your mental age is anywhere near adulthood.” But he spits in his hand and shakes Bart’s, the moisture on the palm causing a wet slap. “But yeah. That’s a deal.”

* * *

There’s an extra set of shoes at the door to the house. Bart nearly trips over them as he phases inside. They’re brand new, still a shining white save a single scuff mark on the left toe. Bart bends closer to look at them. Barry tended to wear Converse and Joe a pair of sturdy boots. Bart only picks shoes in neon colors and they’re a few sizes too big to be Iris’s.

“Eddie!” Bart concludes, tearing around the corner to wrap his uncle in a hug.

“Hey, kid.” Eddie lets out a huff of air, but returns it. “They sprung me today. I would have waited for you, except I was afraid they’d change their mind.”

“Did Aunt Iris take you home?”

“Yeah.” He scratches at the back of his ear. “Set me up in the spare room. Are you really okay with this?”

“Even if I wasn’t, I barely live here anymore.”

“I’m not sure if that is supposed to make me feel better or worse.”

Bart gives him another quick hug. They’d lost so many people through the years that getting one back… he could never resent it for long. Even if he would have preferred someone else. “I’m really glad you’re back, Eddie. Is Aunt Iris around?”

“She’s been on the phone pretty much non-stop since she picked me up from the hospital. Something about a Flash sighting last night.”

“Wally?” Bart asks.

Eddie looks him over. “Did Barry even bother to teach you how to lie?”

Bart laughs, leaning against the wall. “He tried. But he was terrible at it.”

“Should have asked Wells,” Eddie jokes.

“One,” Bart says, “too soon. Two, which Wells?”

“I can joke about my kidnapper if I want to, but I don’t think I need to hear about multiple versions of the guy if I don’t have to.” He crosses his arms. “You should talk to Iris. Soon. She’s trying not to believe the story, but someone saw you in costume last night and she’s the go-to person for the Flash.”

Bart doesn’t need more prompting than that, darting into the kitchen where Iris is on the phone, hissing into the receiver, “I don’t care who your witness was, this is not something we can get wrong. I want a photograph. Not a red blur. A photograph. We’ve had more than enough speedsters around for this to be a fake.” She notes Bart’s entrance with a half nod and finishes. “Call me if you get the confirmation.”

She hangs up, brushing back her hair. “Hey, sweetie. I’m sorry about that. More Flash sightings. The newspaper wants to publish.”

“Good source?” Bart asks.

“A cop with experience,” Iris concedes. “There was an incident last night. Apparently some low rent Flash knockoff broke it up. Got himself shot and everything.”

“Low rent?” Bart chokes.

“It’s not him. Barry would have come home right away. But that particular source knows better than to confuse Barry and Wally.” Iris puts a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I wanted to get this sorted out before you heard. I know this has all been rough on you. How you doing, anyway?”

“Almost healed,” Bart says faintly. “Igotshotacoupletimeslastnight.”

“You _what?_ ”

“Caitlinpatchedmeup.” He gives a sheepish smile, swallowing the urge to speed. “She also threatened me a little. She really doesn’t like the Flash.”

“So that means the low rent knockoff…”

Bart winces, well aware of his own flaws. “Is young and not super great at threat recognition. Wasn’t a good first outing.”

Iris’s composure starts to melt, tears gathering in her eyes. “Then it really wasn’t Barry?”

“You knew it wasn’t Barry,” Bart says. “But it needs to be someone. Even Captain Cold could see that.”

“But you’re Impulse.”

“We don’t need Impulse. We need a Flash. If the Flash is gone, the bad guys all start making moves. Then we turn into Gotham.”

“Gotham, huh?” Iris gives him a watery smile. “Any reason you didn’t let my brother take over?”

“Wally doesn’t look much like Dad. I do.” Bart hugs his arms to his chest. “It’s all about appearances.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“I’ve wanted to be the Flash since I was a kid.”

“I remember that essay of yours,” Iris sys. “Barry had me read it. He was really proud of you.”

Bart looks skyward, blowing back his bangs. “I know.”

“You should have told me before you put on the suit,” Iris chastises. “I wouldn’t have told you no.”

“I only told Rob.” Bart scuffs his foot against the ground. “And Cisco, but that’s only because I needed a suit. Dad’s was too small.”

He meets Iris’s eyes. “But you’re right. I still should have told you.”

Iris steps forward and wraps him up in a hug. Bart hugs her back, resting his chin on top of her head. When they finally break apart, she swabs the tears from her eyes, takes a deep breath and says, “All right. If we’re going to do this, we have some decisions we need to make.”

Bart raises an eyebrow in question.

“Do I leak the story? I mean I can still wait if you need me to, but if we don’t publish soon, someone will.”

“Publish it,” Bart says. “Tell everyone the Flash survived.”

“You sure?”

“You said it yourself. If you don’t someone will.” His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to check. “That’s Cisco. Something’s going down at STAR labs. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

“I remember,” Iris says fond. “That’s the Flash’s job. Always on call.”

Bart plants a quick kiss on her cheek and then zooms away.

* * *

 

He vibrates through the wall and into Cisco’s lab, the costume already feeling a little more natural than it had last night. Cisco lets out a yelp of surprise. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!”

Bart laughs. “Might stop if you ever quit jumping.”

“My inevitable heart attack will be sourced back to an Allen or a West,” Cisco grumbles. “I might accidentally throw you into an alternate reality.”

“Then you’d get me back,” Bart says. “Now come on, you said you had something for me.”

“Not so much something as someone,” a new voice says. “I’m a little temporally displaced, but you’re looking good, Flash.”

Bart spins around, his mouth dropping. “Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Caitlin had more to say than I expected. One more chapter.]


	7. Chapter 7

Bart grasps sideways for Cisco’s arm, unwilling to look away. “Is he…?”

“You got tall,” Barry says.

“Dad?” Bart’s voice breaks.

Barry smiles at him. “Hey, kid.”

Bart takes a step back before he can be pulled into a hug. “ _Cisco._ Ineedanexplanation.”

“He’s our Barry,” Cisco confirms. “I actually remember this. Or past me’s side of this.”

“Time travel,” Barry says. “We’ve been trying to get a glimpse of the future so we could get an edge on Savitar. My aim is apparently not super great. According to Cisco, I’m stuck until he gets in contact with my Vibe and bridges the gap.”

Bart… remembers that too. Barry had gotten a glimpse of the future, had seen a speed God skewer Iris while he was powerless to stop it. “Then it’s really you?” Bart asks.

“I mean, my Bart’s fourteen years old.” Barry looks almost as off balanced as Bart feels. “And here you are, all grown up.”

Bart pulls the cowl back and lunges forward into his dad’s arm. Barry catches him, hugging him back just as hard.

“You got to grow up,” Barry mumbles into his shoulder. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t get the chance. That Savitar actually killed you. I’m so proud of you.”

“You’renotmadatme?”

Barry pulls back to look at him. “Why the hell would I be mad at you?”

Bart swallows. “I’m wearing your costume.”

Barry laughs. “I’ve known you would eventually be in that costume for a while. Since the time I went back to when my mom was murdered. The Flash was there, but it was _you_ , not me.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to you?”

“There’s a newspaper in the time vault that says _Flash Vanishes in Crisis._ It’s always been a pretty real possibility.”

“Don’t you dare tell him anything,” Cisco cuts in. “I am so not in the mood to deal with dementors again.”

“Time wraiths,” Bart and Barry correct together.

“ _Dementors_ ,” Cisco repeats. “We have a strict no dementor policy.”

“It’s all right,” Barry says. “Doesn’t seem like things turned out that bad.”

“But you’re gone,” Bart says. “What do you mean it didn’t turn out bad?”

“You’re still here.” Barry squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t you get it? That means I _won._ ”

* * *

 

“How you doing, kid?” Cisco asks.

Barry sits in the speed lab, hugging his knees to his chest. “Did that really happen?”

Twenty minutes with his dad. Or at least a past version of his Dad. He’d been too afraid that Barry would disappear to find Iris or Joe and let them have the same stolen minutes. 

Cisco sits down next to him, slinging and arm over his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m in about the same place. I mean I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised. Caitlin did leave because there were too many of us running in alternate universes or unchecked through the time stream.”

“Yeah,” Bart agrees. “I just never really expected to catch up with one of those incidents.”

“Barry never talked much about them.” Cisco kicks out his legs. “Pretty much every Wells drilled that into our heads. Knowledge of the future _bad_.”

“Dad never told me that Savitar was after me.” Bart lets out a dry laugh. “He always said he was trying to make sure he could save Aunt Iris.”

“Kid, he was just trying to keep you safe. Wally, Jesse and Barry broke something like eighty bones between them fighting that guy. You were fourteen and thought you were invincible. You would have tried to go after him yourself. Instead Barry told you Iris was in danger and you stayed to protect her. Which let Barry protect both of you.”

“I could have handled it.”

Cisco ruffles his hair. “You know what? You probably could have. You’re Bart Allen. As far as I can see, you can handle just about anything.”

“Dad said I was the one fighting the Reverse Flash the night his mother was killed.” Bart leans into the contact. “He knew this would happen. He always knew.”

“Does that make things easier or harder?”

Bart shrugs without looking up. “I don’t know.”

“He was proud of you. Never doubt that,” Cisco says. “And I’m sure if he could pick out of anyone in the world to follow in his footsteps, he would have picked you.”

Bart swipes at the tears in his eyes. “You think we’ll see him again?”

“You…. definitely. Me? Who knows?”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” Cisco answers, “you haven’t fought the Reverse Flash yet.”

* * *

It takes about a day and a half to track down Captain Cold and even then Bart’s pretty sure he only finds the man because he wants to be found.

Especially considering Bart finds him at a police standoff. At Cisco’s prompting, he remembers to case the scene, taking a quick lap around the block and removing a few at risk civilians from the scene. When he finishes, he stops in with the on duty officer. Impulse never bothered much with talking to cops, but the Flash, even if no one knew it, had a criminal justice background.

The Flash works _with_ the police. The bad guys he helps the police catch, get convicted because he doesn’t compromise investigations or crime scenes.

“…could really use some help this time,” the cop finishes.

And yeah, Bart should have probably been paying attention to the run down.

 _Don’t worry about it,_ Cisco says through the radio. _Nothing we didn’t know. Cold’s just being a showboat._

No.

Snart’s doing him a favor. Thanks to Iris, news about the Flash’s appearance is out. Only she hadn’t been able to ignore the part about how the Flash was shot in his first post-crisis showdown.

Which lead to a few questions. Has the Flash lost his touch? Is he a step slower?

Is it even the same guy?

If Bart fights Captain Cold, that’s an answer all in itself.

If he fights Captain Cold and _wins_ that removes a lot of doubt. 

“Ah,” Snart greets. He hoists the cold gun to his shoulder. “I was starting to think you’d stood me up again. I was almost ready to settle for Central City’s littlest speedster.”

“Some things are better settled personally.”

“I’m flattered, kid, but I don’t think you’ll beat me in a fair fight.”

“Name’s not kid.” Bart feels lightning flicker in his eyes. “It’s _Flash_.”

Snart smirks, self-satisfied and a little fond. He drops the cold gun from his shoulder, charging it along the way.

“Prove it,” he dares.

So Bart does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The series, at the moment, is marked as complete. I’m not discounting that there could be more at some point in the future, but chronologically, this is the last story I had planned. I know this one was a bit of a departure from the rest, but legacy heroes have always been my favorite, and trying to fit Bart into the Flash's role was hugely fun for me. With any luck, it worked out better than his canon stint at the job. =)


End file.
